Harry Potter and the Soul's Struggle
by Avitus88
Summary: [PostHBP] Harry abandons his friends to track down Voldemort's Horcruxes, along the way he is able to find his own identity and to become the Wizard he is destined to be.
1. Admission Fee?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The plot and original ideas are my intellectual property.**

FWG Summer 2006 Horcrux Challenge.

Harry Potter and the Soul's Struggle

---

Chapter 1

Admission Fee?

The circular room was oddly quiet. Free of the monotonous tinkery of perpetually moving, swirling silver knick-knacks. Free from the warmth of Phoenix song, the soft chuckle of an ancient man. His possessions lay at Harry's feet, the personal library and silver constructs had been left to him in Dumbledore's will.

The portrait still sat empty, cold against the wall, among the sombre remains of past Headmasters. Harry sat silently in the chair which the ancient sorcerer had taught him from; taught him of Voldemort's life, and of magic. Truthfully, Harry was quite an accomplished duellist for his age, contrary to his performance during the battle in which his mentor had lost his life.

Harry shook his head and picked up the most precious object that was now in his possession – Dumbledore's wand. With it, the Ministry of Magic would be useless to charge Harry with using Underaged Magic – it wouldn't stand in court to persecute a deceased wizard over 150 years of age with breaking such a decree.

'Thirteen inches, Holly and Dragon heartstring' the will had said; its' appearance compared to his own wand was like night and day. Where Harry's wand was smooth and sleek, as unadorned as the day he had received it, Dumbledore's was knotted and worn down, from the pockmarked handle, to the inlaid runic sigils, to the well darkened tip. With a flourish, Harry waved the wand, filling the air with a roaring nimbus of golden light. The wand felt powerful, almost as powerful as Harry's once had, six years ago when it was first bought.

Another flick and the various boxes which surrounded him shrank to the size of a matchbox. A moment later, the Headmaster's office was truly empty, and Harry Potter had left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he didn't intend to return.

As Harry made his way across the scorched grounds of the castle, he could still, in the distance, see a giant plume of steam – the Hogwarts Express had left not long ago, taking Ron and Hermione with it. With a heavy sigh, Harry stepped across the threshold of the Apparition wards and disappeared with a sharp crack, his thoughts no longer occupied by the lies he had told his friends, but by the phrase, 'Godric's Hollow is located one kilometre south of Castell y Bere, Wales'.

He reappeared in the middle of a cobbled alley; on either side of the narrow path was a grimy looking building of stone and mortar. A chilling fog crawled along the ground, _'Dementors,'_ thought Harry. As he emerged into the street, Harry noticed that there were many wizards about, judging from the odd combinations of muggle clothing. Their faces were grey and drawn, dully moving towards the same direction.

'Are we really in the _real_ Godric's Hollow mummy?'

'Yes, we are dear,' replied a witch to her daughter.

'Where the Boy-Who-Lived defeated You-Know-Who?' the mother nodded quietly to this.

'Are we going to visit the house mummy?'

'Of course we are, but be quiet, this is a muggle town!' she said drawing her daughter's attention towards Harry with a pointed look.

His mind racing, Harry quickly made his way in the direction most of the wizarding folk were congregating, rudely passing the mother and daughter who had just walked by. As he made his way along a clearly residential area, Harry noticed the disconcerting Muggle-Repelling wards across a single house, which was partly missing its roof. There was a small queue set up at the garden gate, with wizards lined up for quite a long way down the street.

As Harry approached, he noticed the wizard at the gate collecting galleons from the queued wizards and witches before admitting them. Needless to say, Harry's blood boiled at the sight. Harry sped up, foregoing the queue, and drawing his wand.

'What do you think you're bloody doing here?' he all but spat to the man at the gate, _his_ gate.

'I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to join the queue like everyone else, admission to the Ministry of Magic's Historical Godric's Hollow site is two galleons for everyone over the age of eleven,'

'Are you kidding?' Harry screamed, wildly waving towards the house, 'THIS IS MY HOUSE!'

At this point, many people in the crowd seemed to realise who this irate wizard was, and wisely many disapparated right out of the queue. And someone quite official-looking emerged from the home.

The man behind the gate seemed to pale slightly and muttered something about closing the till, grabbing the sack of galleons that was hung from an ornamental statue he quickly disapparated. Harry pushed his way through the gate, as the official looking wizard said rather pompously,

'Now, now, what seems to be the problem here, young mister…'

'Potter,' Harry hissed, 'My name, is Harry James Potter, owner of this property, and you sir, are trespassing.'

An odd tingle surrounded Harry as he spoke this, and he could feel the wards that had been cast by both his father and grandfather as they bound themselves to his blood, shattering the Ministry-wrought preservation charms and wards.

'Ah, um, Mr Potter, I – Er – My name is Cornelius Griswald, I am curator of this museum. How may I help you, uh – today?' the pompous wizard said - even his moustache was pale.

'You may leave my home, immediately, before I am forced to expel you from it.' Harry said, placing himself between the _Curator_ and his home.

The man seemed to think, rather difficultly, for a moment before drawing his wand.

'I am sorry Sir, this house became Ministry property the moment such a historical moment occurred within it, according to Section three, Paragraph five of the Ministry Wartimes Acquisition Act of 1975. I must ask you to leave now before I am forced to notify the Magical Law Enforcement Squad.' The man drew himself up in what he thought to be an intimidating manner.

'No magical person other than myself is to be permitted within the grounds of this estate,' Harry spoke commandingly.

A slight rumbling was heard as the wards bowed to their Master's command. A bright flash propelled about forty people across the low fence which surrounded the garden, which, Harry sadly noted, still held the tyre-marks of a motorbike and footprints of a half-giant. Ignoring the voices from behind him, Harry entered the home he hadn't seen for sixteen years, dreading what he might find inside.

'_Bastards,'_ Harry thought, _'the lot of them! How dare they use this as a tourist attraction.'_

Harry seethed as he repeatedly vanished barricades and informational plates,

'_Harry Potter's Bottle', 'The Potter Family Crest', 'Lily and James Potter's Master Bedroom'_

The house was unnaturally clean, _'probably due to the preservation charms',_ Harry assumed. The front door hung off its hinges, and there were spell burns across the entire foyer. With an angry sigh, Harry set himself to repairing and righting upturned furniture and fixtures.

---

Harry sat in the small study across from his parent's bedroom, poking and prodding one of the silver instruments he had inherited from Dumbledore. According to one of the books he had also received, it was a Ward Monitor, and it wasn't showing him anything he wanted to see. According to the whirring noise, and red puffs of smoke emitted by the device, the wards surrounding the home had been in decay for quite a while, and would need to be completely recast.

It had been nearly a month since Harry arrived at Godric's Hollow, and he had spent that month engrossed in Dumbledore's private journals, learning obscure spells, arts, and even a couple spells created by the Headmaster himself. He had yet come across anything relating to Horcruxes, but in truth he had only read through three journals, and had several hundred other texts to learn from.

With an angry wave of Dumbledore's wand, Harry sent the Ward Monitor back into the large crate he had taken it from. He had been pouring raw power into the Wards in an effort to keep the decay from advancing since he arrived; unfortunately, according to the Monitor, the wards had begun to decay at an increasingly rapid pace.

With an angry sort of shuffle, Harry made his way through each room in the house, taking with him a few pictures of his parents, a few books and journals of various Potters. When he returned to the study, everything went into his trunk, including the now shrunken chests of Dumbledore's belongings. Fifteen minutes later he had sent Hedwig off with a short note,

_Mr Dribbles humbly requests that Mr Moony will meet him in two hours at number 12, and would like to express his extreme displeasure at the state he found his home in. Mr Moony might want to think of some good excuses for not informing Mr Dribbles about this desecration._

Harry had previously found a picture in his old nursery, a wizarding photograph of himself, his father, and the other Marauders. On the back was written in a neat print, _'Mr Dribbles: The newest Marauder,_' and indeed, the photo showed an infant Harry drooling quite liberally on a large black dog, while the other three men looked on in glee.

Pulling a travelling cloak over his shoulders, Harry stepped out into the chilly dampness that seemed characteristic of Godric's Hollow. With a couple waves of his wand, reinforcing the Muggle-Repelling Charms, Harry stepped to the edge of the garden. Closing his eyes, Harry raised the wand and focused on the wards, their domed shape became visible in his mind's eye and with a quick jab of the wand they came crashing down. With great care, Harry found the runes that were inscribed upon the garden gate, the ones that were necessary to cast the Fidelius Charm. He tapped them twice, filling them with power and began to chant the incredibly complex spell, pushing all of his will into hiding the property.

'_Deflagrate muri tempi et intervallia,'_ Harry began, watching as an incredible flame sprung up around the edge of the property and began to rise higher. When it reached a height higher than the house stood, Harry continued, _'Etenium dissimulo fidelis arcanum _The Potter's Home is located at Number Eight, Redstone Crescent, Godric's Hollow _promitta_._'_

A great _boom_ resounded through the street as the House disappeared from the universe, and the rest of the world moved to fill the empty space it left behind. Harry felt the secret as it wormed its way into his mind, embedding itself within his consciousness. He seemed to pale slightly as the immense magical working impacted itself upon his body, Harry had never expended himself this quickly before – but thankfully, practising powerful spells and incantations over the past month had strengthened his magic sufficiently that it would not completely exhaust him. Now secure in the fact that his home would be waiting for him, with a swirl of his cloak, Harry disapparated with a small pop.

---

Decrepit steps groaned and sunk as heavy leather boots made their way towards the similarly aged door. Harry stopped for a moment to analyze the muggle-repelling wards surrounding Black Manor, confirming their integrity. With a carefully placed movement, Harry tapped the lock with his wand,

'I am Harry Potter, Godson and Heir to Sirius Black. I claim ownership of this home and all contained within.'

Again, an electric tingle encompassed him as nearly two hundred years worth of wards began binding to his blood. Harry shook the eerie feeling for a moment before lifting the serpentine latch, and entering Black Manor.

The oppressive dampness of the Manor filled Harry's senses, and dust swirled around his boots in the dark. With a jab of his wand towards a strand of magic that hung along the walls, gas lamps began to light throughout the home. Another twist and every window in the home opened, the drapes pulling themselves back, allowing the cool July air to clear the staleness of the home. An angry glare to the yellowed portrait of the late Mrs. Black silenced her protest before it began. With hoarse cry of its name, Kreacher appeared – with Dobby following seconds after.

'Kreacher, you are to restore this home to perfect condition, even a spineless worm of a House Elf such as yourself shouldn't be subjected to such filth,' Harry spoke carefully, subtly eyeing Dobby's nervous footwork.

'Yes Master, Kreacher will be doing so – filthy half-blood speaking ill of Mistress' Noble home, oh the shame!' The toothless house-elf croaked softly as he shuffled through the foyer, conjuring a broom and dustpan.

'Is Mister Harry Potter still wanting Dobby to be watching the filthy Kreacher for him?' the other house-elf squeaked from below. Harry absently noticed that Dobby looked slightly worried at this.

'Dobby, would you consent to serving the Potter Family?' Harry said sharply, watching for the reaction of the unusually subdued House-Elf.

'Mister Harry Potter is a most grand wizard sir; but Dobby has been liking his freedom ever so much!' There were tears in Dobby's eyes at this point as he tugged his long ears painfully, 'But if Mister Harry Potter is wanting Dobby, Dobby will be his sir,' he added very quietly, almost forced.

For a moment, Harry considered asking Dobby to become his house-elf, regardless of Hermione's staunch abhorrence of the practice. Turning to make his way to the Drawing room upstairs, he replied,

'If you do enjoy your freedom so, it isn't my place to remove it from you Dobby,' the house-elf wailed at this point, whether in joy or pain, Harry was quite unsure, 'you may return to Hogwarts Dobby, but please send Winky to me, I believe she may be interested in serving a Master once more,'

With a deep bow, and more than a few tears, Dobby disappeared with a sharp crack, leaving Harry alone. When Harry entered the Drawing room, he noticed that the Doxies had re-inhabited the curtains, and likewise most of the Dark Arts objects had somehow returned to the dusty cabinets that lined the walls. A couple sneering portraits watched him from behind dingy frames, as he repelled the doxies that had identified him as a target, they had previously been jarred by the suddenly open windows and drawn drapes.

One of the doxies managed to avoid Harry's Impediment charm and gave him a sharp bite on the ear, its' venomous teeth sinking into flesh. Harry smacked it out of the air with one hand, and swept his wand in a sharp arc, sending a stream of flames from the tip and incinerating the doxies where they repeatedly flew towards the invisible barrier Harry had erected.

'Kreacher!' Harry called, and a sharp crack signalled the House-elf's arrival, 'Clean this up, now.' Harry gestured angrily towards the smouldering piles of doxy bodies that now littered the carpet. Kreacher stared for a moment towards the dead pests, and then to the wand in his Master's hand, the tip still slightly glowing from the incendiary spell it had just used.

With an odd sort of gleeful smile, Kreacher conjured a bucket and a broom and started sweeping up the charred remains; all the while, he continued muttering, 'Yes, Master Potter, Kreacher would be glad to remove the filth from his Most Noble house, yes indeed Master.'

Harry did not however, notice the gleeful looks he was receiving from the servant, and had turned his attention towards the desk at the opposite end of the room. It had originally belonged to Sirius' Grandfather, the one who had been awarded the Order of Merlin. How the desk had returned to its' place was a puzzling mystery indeed, Harry had taken much joy in perfecting Bludgeoning Curses on it with Sirius' wand, and under his tutelage two summers ago - the last he had seen, it was nothing more than broken chunks of sawdust.

Nevertheless, there it stood – pristinely black, from the gothic feet to the ornately carved matching desk set it stood. Harry briefly entertained the idea of rendering the desk into splinters once more, but decided otherwise. A desk was only a desk after all. The unmistakeable crack of apparition reverberated through the room. Harry turned to see that Winky had arrived; still clad in the filthy dress she had worn since being disowned by the Crouch family. Her eyes were sunken and dull, and her small face looked gaunt and stretched.

'Winky, would you consent to serve the Potter Family?'

'Winky is a very bad elf Mister Harry Potter, she is being given cl-clothes!'

'Answer my question Winky,' Harry spoke, surprised that the elf would show such self-loathing.

'Winky is wanting to be a proper elf, Mister Harry Potter.'

'Then you shall be my elf Winky, bound to the Potter Family.' A shiver of magic rippled across Harry's skin as the bond formed, settling itself alongside Kreacher's.

'Help Kreacher restore this home, I want it habitable as soon as possible.'

Winky nodded so hard her teary eyes nearly flew from their sockets, a second later she had disappeared with a soft pop. Shaking his head slightly, Harry quickly turned to the Black Tapestry, if only to confirm the suspicions he'd had for quite some time. For the last month, he had been searching through all Dumbledore's records of Death Eater activities, searching for one with the initials R.A.B; there had been three possible leads, Rodolf Alban Bagman, father of Ludo Bagman and close friend to Augustus Rookwood; Reginald Alden Bulstrode, a noted pureblood and friend of Walden Macnair; and lastly, the supposition Harry was now investigating, Regulus Black - the last Death Eater with at least two of the initials of the person who had stolen Slytherin's Locket from Voldemort, and subsequently one of his Horcruxes.

The tapestry, however did not reveal any middle name for Regulus, instead there appeared to be a shimmering line after his first name. reaching a finger out, he ran it across the small imperfection, feeling for the magic. The distinctive chill of dark magic lingered along the thread, the only place where the tapestry was marred, apart from the singed holes where disinherited members once appeared. He had come to a roadblock, Dark magic was notoriously difficult to dispell and Harry had neither the knowledge, nor the experience in such a field.

The only conclusion Harry could come to of course, was that Regulus had originally been named after his Uncle Alphard, who was later disinherited and removed from the tapestry, not wanting to ruin her favourite son's status, old Walburga Black had hidden the offending name with a blood based charm.

Intrigued at the history that the tapestry contained, Harry began to trace Sirius' Lineage, noticing quite a few familiar names: Crabbe, Flint, Bulstrode, McMillan. Confused and slightly disgusted that Sirius' mother had married her cousin, Harry traced the line of Pollux Black, which included Sirius's mother, the father of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa, a burnt hole, and Dorea Black. Harry froze for a second, his finger tracing the double golden line which joined Dorea to her husband, Charlus Potter. Blinking a couple times to confirm what his eyes told him, Harry traced the thread downwards, to a single name, with a picture of a bespectacled, darkhaired boy of about 11, James Potter. Son of Dorea Black and Charlus Potter. Feeling a little dizzy, Harry fell to the floor, staring at the boy looking back at him, barely noticing that Winky had allowed Remus entry through the wards. James Potter was a Black.

---

Harry sat quietly, focusing on scribing the proper runes for his ritual. It had been two days since he found out that not only was he the last Potter, but among the eldest Generation of Black cousins. The circle in which he sat, drawn with salt and empowered by various runes painted in his own blood, was one which every pureblooded heir used on the eve of their seventeenth birthday. The ritual was used to summon the inheritance that they would be granted through magic, for the Potter line, Harry knew that he would recieve the signet to become Head of the family, there was no other who could claim it.

The Black line however, was quite an enigma. After taking a closer look at the tapestry, he noticed the possible Heirs to the line, now that Sirius and Regulus were both dead. Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Bill Weasley, and Nigellus Burke. Draco, and Bill were born a generation removed from Harry and Neville. Indeed, Harry was more closely related to Draco's Grandparents than to Draco himself. Bill's grandmother Cedrella was disinherited for marrying Septimus Weasley, so it was unlikely that he had inherited anything from the Black Family.

Nigellus Burke was the eldest, having been born in 1925, was the only living grandson of Phineas Nigellus Black. It was again unlikely he would have inherited much, being born of a Black daughter, and being so old.

Neville was unlikely to inherit because his 'gran' Augusta Longbottom was born Augusta Figg, elder sister to Harry's old babysitter Arabella, a squib.

Harry knew he would inherit something, he just didnt know what. Finishing the last runic sigil, Harry took close watch of the clock on the opposite wall, it was now 11:58, two minutes until his seventeenth birthday. The seventeenth birthday was quite an event for a Wizard, the coming-of-age was universal amongst Wizarding societies. Inheritance Rituals were performed, Family Vaults were opened, and marriages were arranged.

Those were strictly legal reasons of course, the magical reasons were simple – seventeen was a powerful year, it was the year where one's magic finished fluctuating, and lost any of its flaws. It became ingrained within one's soul, within their body – this generally allowed for more refined spellcasting, in some cases more powerful and in some cases wandless magic became possible. Harry had no doubt of being able to do some wandless magic, he had done it before – two or three years prior actually.

As the clock struck twelve, Harry felt a great force gripping him, similar to the feeling of apparition, quickly squeezing and releasing. Small tingling pain sprung up at various points of his body, his knobbly knees, the scars on his arm from the Basilisk bite, and from Voldemort's ressurection, behind his eyes, deep within his chest, and finally at _the_ scar. The throbbing pain became greater as the giant hand squeezed tighter and tighter, sweat began to pour off his body as the bloody runes began to shimmer, glowing in the thick magic that permeated the air. Harry barely heard himself chanting through the rapid pulses of magic, and vaguely noticed that he was rocking back and forth,

_'Ego assero cognatus, progenitor James Arcturus Potter prosapia.'_

Harry felt the familiar Potter magic as is began to filter through him, removing the painful flaws that were now obvious to him, strengthening the connection to his magic, judging him worthy of his name.

_'Ego assero cognatus, progenitor Dorea Elladora Black prosapia.'_

A new magic began to course through his body. Cold, unrelenting and dark, aiding the Potter magic in its' task with an immaterial sneer; removing the imperfections, giving him greater power. An oddly familiar part of the magic swirled around him, rather than through him, accepting him as family. It gave a familiar barking laugh as the rest of the Black magic indignantly complied to the wishes of its most recent Heir's magic.

_'Progenitum progenerium ego voco cognomen patrius familiaris!'_

The pain subsided as the magic finished its' task, Harry was now a true Wizard. With a last comforting swirl, the two magics left the circle, coalescing into five ghost-like spirits. A regal looking woman with jet black hair, standing confidently beside a smiling man with wind-swept brown hair and glasses, she eyed him with interest, and nodded to him with a smile, removing from her hand a silver ring. Finely wrought like spindles of a spider's web, she set it upon the ground before her.

The man gave Harry a wink, and placed beside the ring a golden watch, its' filigree chain pooled beneath the open face. He stood back beside the woman, linking her fingers with his own, the two disappeared in a shimmer of golden light, leaving the remaining three.

The ghostly figure of Lily Potter gave an enormous smile as she held on to the arm of her husband. James Potter also smiled, though it was a sad one, they placed before them a delicate silver locket and a golden set of squared spectacles; they looked towards the last figure. Sirius Black placed before him the clasp from his cloak, a heavy pewter hook-and-eye in the shape of two dragon claws. He jumped up and playfully tackled James, Lily picked them up off the floor and they disappeared in another shimmer of light, her ghostly laughter filling the room.

Still worn out from the ritual, Harry blinked back tears, shaking his head as he broke the circle and cleaned it with a sweep of his wand. The appearance of spirits during this ritual were common, but it was usually a long dead bunch of relatives, ancestors centuries old – not your parents and grandparents. Harry resignedly picked up the heirlooms left to him, he knew what each was – the magic had told him. A musical trilling filled the air, and a burst of fire signalled the arrival of a Phoenix, its' soothing song filling Harry with strength. The majestic bird circled the room before landing on the back of a chair.

'Fawkes?' Harry whispered, shuffling tiredly closer. The bird whistled in agreement, allowing Harry to softly stroke his neck before folding his wing over his head to sleep.

'I suppose you'll be staying with me from now on?' Another chirp of agreement, 'I'll have to get a perch for you then. I'm going to bed. Goodnight Fawkes.' The bird gave another trill, softer though as the bird drifted to sleep. Harry shook his head slightly and brought the heirlooms to his bedroom.

After securing the items in a locked chest, Harry collapsed onto his bed in the Master Bedroom of Grimmauld Place, vaguely noting that the House no longer silently protested his presence. Harry drifted to sleep, dreaming of his family.

---

Harry sat quietly in his large wingback chair. The Drawing Room had quickly become his favourite, a place of solitude – although Harry hadn't actually had any contact with other people since Remus had left a week ago. He was dressed in his finest robes, outfitted by Madam Malkin herself two days ago.

It was Bill and Fleur's Wedding today, the Potter signet watch was fastened to his waistcoat – the golden crest hung from the chain's fastener – slightly radiating the comforting warmth of Potter magic, the Black signet ring on his left hand – its' web-like structure humming contently with the crisply cool Black magic, Sirius' cloak clasp fastened at his throat - charmed with a powerful shield, and the Glasses of Godric Gryffindor sat precariously upon his nose.

The glasses had been willed to Godric's second cousin Hralf Potter, who was notorious for his bad eyesight, enchanted by Gryffindor himself to bring magic into the visible spectrum, showing dormant spells, wards, and curses as well as peircing through invisibility spells.

In his hands, Harry held the locket he had recieved from his mother. It was puzzling, why his mother had given him a locket with pictures of herself and Petunia as young women. It was completely muggle, no spells or charms had gone into it, but it seemed to hold sentimental value for her. To Harry, it was nothing but a reminder that the woman who had ignored him for nearly half his life was his mother's sister. A silent disappointment in what could have been, what _should_ have been his life. With a sigh, Harry pocketed the locket and pulled on his dragon-hide boots, buckling them securely. The heavy heels made deep thunking noises as Harry walked down the stairs, nodding to the silenced portrait of Sirius' mother with a joyful,

'I'll be home later tonight Aunt Willy, I've some Weasleys to reinherit.' The portrait sputtered angrily, trying to scream through the silencing charm to no effect.

Harry grabbed a pointed hat from the coat rack, and pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders. He stepped from the house, and tapped the door with his wand, locking the wards. Harry walked past the front gate, and with a click of his heel disapparated.

Privet Drive had been oddly quiet for the past month, most residents noticed that the Potter boy hadn't returned to the Dursleys as he did every summer, 'Good riddance' most of them said, 'that Dudley is bad enough without Potter here directing him.' The only major disturbance had been on the night of the thirty-first, someone had set off a bunch of fireworks across the street, bathing the area in red light, it had left a smell of burnt ozone that still lingered. It was this smell that worried Harry Potter as he appeared at the end of the front walk of Number Four.

A twitch of the wand in his pocket cast a Notice-Me-Not charm around his person. Harry drew his wand – Dumbledore's wand – and tapped the side of his glasses, activating the enchantment. A shambled dome surrounded the house he had grown up in, the runes scribed along the stone pathway were worn down and weak, Harry tapped each of the runes filling them with power and whispered an incantation, erecting temporary wards that would feed off the runic energy, blocking apparition, entry, and portkey access. They would last for a month at the most if left alone. Harry deactivated the enchantment on his glasses with a thought, and replaced his wand within his jacket. Three knocks on the door later, Petunia had appeared at the door, and nearly slammed it in his face.

'Get out, we were told you'd never return! You're not wanted here!' she hissed angrily.

'Aunt Petunia, I need to come inside – we have things to discuss.' Harry said stubbornly.

She opened the door and shooed him inside, looking around as though someone would be reporting the visit to the tabloids.

'Fine, but take off that rediculous hat... the cape too,' she squeaked, just noticing his attire.

Harry simply nodded and complied, pulling his cloak over his arm, and taking the hat off, placing it upon the coffee table infront of him. He took a seat upon the sofa, waving his wand in an intricate pattern, casting various privacy charms – much to Petunia's chagrin. When he put his wand down, he nodded at her and began to speak,

'You aren't safe. I've put up some temporary protections around the house but they won't last for more than a few weeks. Voldemort,' Petunia blanched with a gasp, 'is after me. They killed Professor Dumbledore in May, i've been in hiding since.'

Petunia gaped like a fish for a moment, holding her head in her hands. 'What can I do? You freaks have so much power. Destroying without thought, blowing people up, killing with a word. I can't defend against that!' Harry was quiet, debating what to do. He shifted in his seat, and felt the locket's weight against his leg. Pulling it from his pocket, he held it open in his hand, staring at the happy faces within, ignoring Petunia's curious look.

'You need to move. Leave the country, go on an extended vacation, sell the house. I'll...' His mother's face stared up towards him, smiling alongside her sister, 'I'll transfer some money to your account, enough to buy a new house somewhere. You can tell Vernon it was a gift from my mother for watching over me.'

Petunia nodded carefully, surprised and angered that her waif of a nephew had that kind of money to throw around. 'What if they do find us?'

Harry looked thoughtful, still staring at the locket in his hands. 'Fawkes,' he called quietly. A burst of fire made Petunia jump as the Phoenix appeared in her living room, settling comfortably on Harry's shoulder.

'Call for Fawkes, he is a phoenix and can bring the three of you directly to me, or me to you.'

'I don't... why are you doing this?' Harry stood, donning his cloak and hat. A twirl of his wand removed the privacy charms. He stepped across the room to the mantle, where a recent family portrait sat in a gilt frame. He placed the locket, open and facing the room infront of the portrait. He turned to Petunia, who was now standing,

'Goodbye Aunt Petunia. Call for Fawkes when you get settled again. I'll need to set up protections for your new home,' he smiled weakly, glancing around the room, 'Let's go Fawkes.' The two disappeared with a flash of flame. Harry didn't hear his Aunt's passing words as she held the locket in her hands tearily, gazing upon the face of the sister she so resented.

'I'm proud to be your Aunt, Harry.'

---

**Author's Note: I hope you like it, sorry about the scene breaks, the button I usually use doesn't work anymore to insert the line, so I've gone back and put in a few dashes. The story will get darker, and I'm working on the second chapter right now.**

**Avitus**


	2. Acquiesing to Circumstance

Harry Potter and the Soul's Struggle

Chapter 2

Acquiescing to Circumstance

Harry sat at the long table, along with Bill, Fleur, and their parents. Apparently, Fleur's mother had decided that Harry's celebrity required him to be treated as a guest of honour, he had had no choice but to accept the position. The ceremony had been beautiful, watching as both Bill and Fleur's magic combined to form a new line of stronger magic; bonding their very souls together - although Harry did find it slightly frightening that marriage in the Wizarding World was for life, divorce did not exist.

The guests were now presenting the newlyweds with gifts, speeches, and well-wishes. This was the moment Harry was dreading. As he waited for the speeches and gifts to wind down, he tried desperately to avoid locking eyes with his friends. Ron and Hermione were seated at a table directly opposite him, along with Grandma and Grandpa Weasley, and Ginny. They were glaring at him quite venomously, and they had every right to. Twenty-five letters, fifteen floo-calls, and not to mention a fair-few Howlers had been sent over the past week from his friends. Harry had yet to reply.

As the Master of Ceremonies was calling for the last speech, Harry stood and made his way to the podium, smiling weakly towards Ron and Hermione.

'I must admit, that sadly I do not know Bill as well as I should being such a close family friend. Fleur and I however have kept a fair amount of correspondence since competing together in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Never before have I met a couple who are so devoted to each other, except perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Weasley of course. I have had trouble deciding upon an appropriate gift, and I think I've come up with one that will help the entire Weasley family for ages to come.

Would Mr. and Mrs. Septimus Weasley please step forward?'

There were mutterings of confusion and indignation as Grandpa and Grandma Weasley stepped forward, to stand before Harry. Harry took in the faces of the two, Septimus' wrinkled face seemed to be the origin of the 'vacant expression' which seemed to characterise his descendants, whereas Cedrella's features seemed almost plain, and quite unlike the Black she was born as.

'I Harry James Potter, as Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, do hereby offer to Septimus Weasley, and Cedrella Black Weasley, and all of their descendants the heritage to which they have been denied, as members of House Black,'

Again, angry whispers rose and the crowd looked in slight outrage. Harry noticed that Arthur and Molly seemed to be holding back smiles, and that Ron's face had flushed in a familiar jealous outrage, until Hermione politely reminded him that he was included, Ron had the sense to look embarrassed after that.

Grandma Weasley looked slightly confused for a moment, ignoring the angry spluttering of her husband and said quietly,

'We accept,'

Harry nodded and raised his left palm to face the elderly couple. He felt the cool Black magic as it began to swirl around his hand like a crisp November breeze.

'_Ego indicio cognatus, Septimus Weasley et Callidora Black, cognomen patrius familiaris Black'_

The cool magic grew to engulf the couple, accepting them as members of the Black family, returning the magic they had been denied. Cedrella's features seemed to morph slightly, darkening her hair to a deep grey, rather than the stark white it had been previously, darkening her eyes from the bright blue they had been, to an icy lilac - eerily similar to her niece Bellatrix's. Her face, once plain and unassuming, took on the Black nose and proud haughtiness that was their characteristic.

The shocking breeze spread through the crowd, altering the many descendants with Black magic, auras became visible as they gained the magic's acceptance, the 'vacant expression' and freckles disappeared, replaced with a look of noble confidence. The most defining change however, was to their hair - nearly the entire Weasley family, with their fiery orange hair changed. The bright locks replaced with darker auburn hair, nearly brown.

The crisp Black magic, with a distinctly content feeling returned to Harry's ring with a snap, and as the guest's magic settled, they spoke solemnly as one,

'_Toujours Pur.'_

Harry sat again at the head table, in a decidedly one-sided conversation with Fleur's father on the advantages of using non-verbal spells with advanced transfigurations; he was instead concentrating on the Black ring which adorned his left hand. There was a distinct happiness about the magic that surrounded it now, and swirled around and in between the spiraling threads of silver, Harry could _feel_ each member of the Weasley family and at this wedding that was _quite_ a lot. As he focused more, he began to recognize each one, Charlie, Aunt Tillie, Arthur, they each felt slightly different.

'Harry, I wanted to thank you for what you did,' Bill's voice interrupted, his scarred face frowning painfully, 'The Weasley's have always been rash, judgemental, and too brave for their own good…I – I think you've given us the kick in the arse, we've needed for so long I don't think we can ever repay you.'

'Don't worry about it Bill, you're the only family I have, it was the least I could do.'

Harry sighed and returned to the conversation with Fleur's father, trying to understand what he was saying about _'Transmutational matricies in transfigurative charms'_, and when Ginny came to steal him into a dance, he heartily said yes – trying heavily to ignore the flowery scent that seemed to engulf her, causing that eerie snake within him to rear itself possessively. Shaking his head and clearing his mind, Harry smiled widely and began to dance; trying desperately to ignore what his mind was telling him about that scent.

Harry sat down nervously, this was the conversation he had been dreading; and before Hermione could begin berating him, Harry flicked his wand and muttered _'Muffliato'_.

'Is that… is that _Dumbledore's_ wand Harry?' Ron whispered almost angrily.

'It was willed to me, along with most of his library.' Harry put the wand away, not wanting to delve further into anything about his late mentor.

'Harry James Potter! Where have you been? How dare you do something like this to us, we've - '

'I visited Godric's Hollow. I needed to do it alone.' Harry noted that Ron and Ginny both looked slightly nervous.

'Oh that's wonderful Harry, I'm sorry… I was just worr - '

'No it wasn't Hermione,' Harry glared towards Ron, 'They defiled it, the place of my parents death. My ancestral home, MY HOME' Harry growled.

'Harry, mate – we were going to tell you - '

'Tell me what, that they turned my fucking house into a bloody tourist attraction?'

Hermione looked in slight disgust and horror at Ron,

'You knew?'

'I've uh… visited before' He mumbled very quietly, his ears darkening.

'Oh, Harry I'm so sorry, I just didn't know… what…what did you do to them?'

'I kicked them out; they can't do anything about it. Ancestral homes are sole property of the family, not even the Wizengamot can change their ownership. The wards were pretty degraded, so I've put it under the Fidelius Charm.'

Ron and Ginny looked slightly surprised, and Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. The possessive snake reared within Harry as Ginny shifted closer to him, another whiff of the flowery scent swirled around his head.

'But that's an incredibly complex piece of magic Harry, so many things could have gone wrong, are you sure it's been don - '

'Do you think Dumbledore and I sat around picking our bloody noses three nights a week last year?' Harry snapped, his anger breaking through the flowery chains pulling on the serpent within him.

'Harry, it's just that, you've always been a little…'

'What? Average? Stupid? Not good enough? Hermione you just don't understand do you. I trained under _Albus Dumbledore_! Merlin… he… Merlin doesn't even compare to Dumbledore, Hermione. Magic was more than a tool to him. It was his very reason for living,' Harry closed his eyes, breathing deeply in memory of the sage-like knowledge he now held.

Hermione's eyes seemed to glaze over as she realized the extent of Harry's abilities, her cravings for knowledge almost out-weighing the motherly instincts she held for her friend.

'But Harry, you couldn't even…' she looked away abashedly whispering, 'Snape.'

'Snape was right.' Harry said.

'Wha-'

'My mind is open and I let my emotions rule me. I had just watched Dumbledore _die_. Hermione… you just can't… none of you could understand it.'

The four teenagers sat in silence, disparaged at the memory of their Headmaster, and separated by the illusion of joy the wedding had brought.

'I have to go,' Harry jabbed his wand again, breaking the silencing charm.

'We're coming with you, Harry. We promised' Ron said, regaining some of his confidence.

'No Ron, you can't. You're at too much risk; I won't allow any of you to get hurt. We got lucky in the Department of Mysteries – none of the Death Eaters will let us get away that easily again.'

'But you need our help.' Ron bit back angrily.

'I said no.'

_Crack_! Ginny's right hand came into sharp contact with Harry's cheek, stinging angrily. Her left hand swung to slap him again, but Harry caught it, squeezing it painfully, and his rage again rose towards the girl.

'How DARE you try to pull that kind of-' Ginny started angrily, as Harry pulled her close, growling into her ear.

'Do not presume, Ginny, that I have, nor have I ever held any feelings for you,' Ginny tried to pull away, gasping shrilly, 'Oh yes, I do recognize the effects of Amortentia. I think it's time you've run along and found someone else to sink your disgusting hands into.'

He let her go, ignoring her as she stormed away angrily. Both Ron and Hermione looked shocked, but surprisingly said nothing against the rough treatment Ginny had received.

'Look, Harry – if I had known…' Ron trailed of slightly, gazing towards where his sister had left the garden.

'Forget it Ron. You had nothing to do with it. She can deal with her own messes now.'

'We're still coming with you, Harry.' Hermione said staunchly.

'Hermione, you can't. There are things I have to do… alone. I can't keep an eye over my shoulder all the time to look out for you,' Harry turned his face away, his eyes wandering across the happy guests. 'The two of you – you have so many resources here! Ron, you have so much to learn from your father. He has Ministry restricted spell-knowledge that you could use to help us – port-keys, and floo access... I… I do need you two, but not as you are now. Learn from your family, you too Hermione – you'll need to help Ron do this for me. Merlin, Bill is a bloody _curse-breaker_! The things he knows… I'll be back in a couple of months; January at the latest. Be ready.'

Harry walked quickly towards the edge of the anti-apparition wards, as he stepped beyond them a hand clasped his shoulder. He spun quickly, drawing his wand unobtrusively.

'Bill… I have to go, something's come up. I'm sorry.'

Bill looked thoughtful for a moment and pulled his wand out. He drew several glyphs in the air, muttering a lilting language. A dome of dull red light sprung around them.

'Old Kingdom Egyptian privacy ward. What was that all about with Ron and Hermione.'

Harry looked quizzically at the dome for a moment.

'There are things I need to do, some tasks Dumbledore left me,' Harry returned his wand to the inside of his cloak, 'How is your Occlumency?'

'I trained under a master in Istanbul for three years before I was accepted at Gringotts, why? Does this have something to do with Voldemort?'

Harry nodded. 'There are reasons he claims to be immortal… _terrible_ things he's done.'

'I can't help you if you don't let me know Harry. I owe you a life debt for what you've done for my family.'

Harry looked Bill in the eye, past the rough scars that covered his face.

'Horcruxes.'

Bill's face turned white as a sheet.

'Horcruxes? As in more than one?' Harry nodded, 'Bloody hell. Do you know what they are?'

'Two have been destroyed. Dumbledore and I went to look for another, but… it was already gone. A golden locket belonging to Salazar Slytherin, and a cup of Helga Hufflepuff's are the only one we know about now, I suspect that Nagini, his snake is another.'

'The Locket and Chalice? The ones stolen from Hepzibah Smith? Those are legends! Every curse-breaker worth his runes has looked for them…'

'I need you to train Ron. You know things I don't. Wards, curses, enchantments… Voldemort will have layered his Horcruxes with them; I need to get past them.'

'I'll do what I can Harry,'

'That's all I've asked.'

Harry appeared with a swish in a dark alleyway. Sighing slightly at his location, he pulled his cloak around him and began to walk swiftly towards Grimmauld Place, ignoring the thick fog swirling around his heels.

As Harry made his way towards the park, which Black Manor faced directly opposite, Harry tried to ignore the thickening mist that lingered along the ground, and the frigid chill that accompanied it.

Quickening his pace, Harry noticed that the sky had darkened, its twinkling stars disappearing; velvety twilight replaced with an incredible blanket of darkness. The chill became more pronounced, and the mist was beginning to condense. Now running along the path, ignoring the hellish forms the mist was congealing into, Harry cleared his mind with Occlumency.

Dementors began to form all around him, their rattling breath creating a sharp frost to form across the slick path. He swished his wand nervously, Prongs' silvery form burst forth, charging the wraiths and repelling the dark cold that had surrounded him.

Still running through the park, his eyes raking over his surroundings, silently directing his weakening Patronus in circles around him; Harry spotted a ragged looking man lying face-down on the ground, surrounded by Dementors. Prongs charged the Dementors, causing them to scatter as Harry slowed down to check the man. _'I hope he hasn't been kissed_'.

The man drew ragged, shallow breaths as Harry turned him over. Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise as he recognized the silvery hair and wrinkled face. 'O_llivander'_. Dementors were closing in, still forming from the thinning mist. Harry's breath became visible as he knelt beside Ollivander, trying to ascertain if he'd been kissed or not.

The frigid cold began to wear away at Harry's mind, shattering through the glasslike walls surrounding his memories. _'Step aside, Girl,' 'Lily, take Harry and run!' 'Ah, Mr Potter. Our new _celebrity_,' 'Speak to me, Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts four,' 'Kill the spare,' _Harry cried out as Cedric's lifeless eyes flittered through his mind.

'_Bow to death, Harry' 'Kill me now, Dumbledore'_ Harry gritted his teeth and tried to stand.

'_Severus, please.' 'Avada Kedavra!'_

Harry screamed as Dumbledore flew backwards off the tower, a horrified expression on his normally calm face. A cool sensation seemed to cut through the fervent cold that surrounded him, with an angry swish of his wand, Harry cried _'Aduro Funis!'_

Thick ropes of intense fire spat from the tip of his wand circling around himself and Ollivander, igniting many of the Dementors where they hovered. The rattling breaths seemed to increase as a harsh, icy gust of wind smothered the flaming whips.

Harry scrambled to his feet, filling his mind with the love he had felt for his mentor. His Patronus flew forwards gleaming silver, a blinding phoenix of light; causing many of the Dementors to scatter. The cool sensation that had shocked him out of his memories was still rising around him, combating the Dementor's dark magic. The Black ring sang with the crisp magic as Harry focused his mind once more, feeling the Potter watch glow with an intense heat. With a complicated gesture, Harry barked out the most powerful incantation he knew, one of Dumbledore's own creation.

'_Precor Patronum Effligo!'_ Harry's voice distorted with the power of the spell, echoing through the park.

A jet of white light screamed forward, rippling through the air with vehement hatred. It impacted on a Dementor, causing it to swell painfully for a moment before exploding in a cloud of noxious fumes. The spell continued, branching out like a spider's web destroying Dementors as they fled.

Harry slumped as they began to disappear, but without hesitating, picked up Ollivander in his arms, carrying the old man as if he weighed nothing. A thought had sent his phoenix-patronus with an urgent message to Madam Pomfrey. Harry wasted no time in running towards his home.

Harry burst through the door of Black Manor, he twisted the wand in his hand closing the door with a snap.

'Winky!' he cried. She appeared before him with a loud _crack!_ Her eyes widened at the man Harry was carrying in his arms.

'Prepare a bedroom, quickly. I've summoned Madam Pomfrey, bring her directly to me when she arrives.'

'Yes Master Potter!' she squeaked loudly.

Harry bounded up the stairs two at a time towards the closest guest-room. When he arrived, a fire was crackling in the grate, and a tray with two steaming goblets of hot cocoa sat upon the side-table; Winky was pulling the bed-clothes back, and placing a bed warmer between the sheets. Harry placed Ollivander gently into the bed, and waved his wand in a complicated squiggle, removing the old man's robes and replacing them with pyjamas.

While Winky tucked the old man into the bed, Harry removed his hat and cloak, and sank into a chair close to the fire, sipping the spiced chocolate slowly. With a flick of his wand, he summoned a thick book from his study, _The Healer's Book of Home Medi-Wizardry_ glided into his hands. Sighing, Harry flipped to the index, searching for anything of use.

'Well I can certainly understand the urgency, Mr Potter,' Madam Pomfrey spoke briskly as she waved her wand over Ollivander's still form. 'He hasn't been kissed, but has had prolonged exposure to a Dementor, probably an hour or two. He hasn't eaten in quite a while either. I'll never understand how lucky you are, Potter. He would have died had you not brought him here and called me.'

Harry simply nodded as she cast a few charms over Ollivander, and administered a couple phials of a thick potion.

'Have you had any chocolate?' Harry nodded, glancing towards the two empty goblets that sat on the desk.

'I would have given him some, but-'

'Not to worry, Potter. He's far past chocolate's healing effects at this point. I'll need to monitor him continuously, he is stable, but mind healing is a tricky art. He'll need proper supervision and nutrient potions.'

'I'll have Winky make a room up for you. You're welcome to stay for a while.'

'Thank you, Mr Potter. I'll need to return home in the morning for a few supplies but that should be adequate. And I daresay you could use a check-up, you're looking a little green around the ears.'

Harry smiled weakly, standing. 'I'll be going to bed, Winky will show you to your room, and to the Library if you should need any reference materials.'

Poppy watched as the boy slumped from the room, clucking disapprovingly, she turned back to her diagnostic spells.

'That boy's driving himself into the grave,' she spoke softly to herself. A sharp _crack_ interrupted her thoughts as a house-elf appeared behind her.

'Winky is showing Madam Healer Pomfrey to her room.'

Poppy closed her carpet bag with a snap, turning to the small elf.

'Thank you, Winky'

'_I only hope he doesn't turn out as lonely as Albus was,'_ she thought silently, noting that the house-elf was Harry's only companion.

'Well, I suppose I owe you my most sincere thanks, Mr Potter. Albus had told me that if anything were to happen to him, I could find refuge at Grimmauld Place. It was most unfortunate that the Dementors had found such a…grim place in which to reproduce.' Ollivander spoke from his bed.

It had been nearly two weeks since the incident with the Dementors, since then Harry had had the constant company of Poppy. Reluctantly, Harry admitted to himself it was refreshing to have some companionship, even though he would rather study in peace.

'We all owe our thanks to him.' Harry said, 'It was his spell that saved us both; his wand too.'

Poppy chose to ignore the depression in his voice, and continued to cast her charms.

'His wand you say?' Ollivander perked up, straightening himself in bed. 'May I see it?'

Harry hesitated for a moment, but pulled the wand out and handed it to the Wandmaker.

'Yes, yes, one of my greatest creations. It comes from the same branch of Holly as your own wand, though the connection is less than that of a brother,' Ollivander whispered, his keen eyes weighing the wand, 'but how does it compare to your own?' his eerie demeanor seemed to have returned.

'Erm… Better I suppose, my wand still works great, but this one seems easier to use.'

'Curious,' Ollivander said, 'It has chosen you then; a great compliment, Mr Potter. A wand is usually entombed with its Wizard you see. Yes, it says a great many things about the bond you shared, that his wand has accepted you. Yes, now that I look closer, it appears to have begun molding to your magic, it is very slight, but yes it is there.'

'Molding to my magic?'

'Of course, Mr Potter, just as your wand has,' Ollivander looked sharply up at him, 'It has begun to assume the shape of your current has it not?'

Harry shifted, feeling slightly agitated.

'I don't understand.'

'A wand Mr Potter, is a conduit for a Wizard's power. When a wand is made, it is completely cylindrical you understand, plain and straight. But a Wizard's magic is not, it is full of rapids, currents, eddies, and waves – much like a river. Over time, the wand will assume the shape of the magical current flowing through it, in a process similar to erosion, this allows for the Wizard's full magical potential to be exploited. Quickly, hand me your wand.'

Harry handed Ollivander the plain shaft of wood, and watched as the old man tapped it repeatedly with Dumbledore's wand, muttering under his breath. He looked it over closely, tapping it against the side of his bed, and casting a spell. With a startled intake of breath he looked up at Harry with astonishment in his eyes.

'Mr Potter, How in the name of Merlin and Mab did you manage to _petrify_ your wand!'

'What?' both Harry and Poppy gasped at the same time.

'The wood, in your wand, is petrified Mr Potter. It might as well be stone. I haven't a clue how this could have happened. It certainly was not damaged any extent when I weighed it two years ago. Only an incredibly powerful and dangerous magical event could have caused this. I truly am baffled.'

'But, what does this mean?'

'Wand erosion is a constant process Mr Potter, it increases with age, and with it allows your power to grow. In essence, you have been casting with the power of a fourteen year old since your wand was petrified! There is no logical explanation for this occurance!' Ollivander exclaimed angrily.

'Excuse me, I have potions to brew,' Poppy spoke quietly, leaving the room.

'_Priori Incantatem._' Harry whispered to himself.

'What's that?' Ollivander said gruffly.

'I said, the Priori Incantatem. It happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I dueled Voldemort.'

'The Brother Wand effect, yes it would have had a significant effect on your wand's malleability. I must admit this is a puzzling dilemma. I shall have to replace your wand-wood, I had a trunk inside my robes – may I have it please? I believe there is still another length of wood from your wand's tree.'

Harry nodded, retrieving the trunk and a wand from a pocket of Ollivander's robes – which had been hung inside the closet. Ollivander pointed his wand at the trunk and muttered something under his breath. At once it re-inflated itself, and opened into a workbench with many different drawers and slots. He rose shakily from the bed, and set Harry's wand on the table. Without warning, he pulled a large hammer from one of the slots and smashed Harry's wand to pieces, removing the pristinely golden phoenix feather.

'Now, let's get to work shall we?' He grinned widely at Harry's horrified face.

Harry sat at a small table in the Leaky Cauldron, nursing a large tumbler of Fire Whiskey.

'To Sirius,' said Tonks, her hair flashing from pink to black, and back again.

'And Dumbledore,' said Harry

'And Amelia,' Kingsley added.

'Don't forget Elphias!' Moody chimed in, 'Took out Crabbe and Nott he did, before they got him'

'Here, here!' the four spoke solemnly, drinking deeply from their glasses, Moody from his flask.

August had come and gone, as had September, Voldemort had yet to slow his attacks, and the Order of the Phoenix was still out of commission. Harry had taken to hanging around with the Aurors when they were off-duty, learning all he could from them about Voldemort's actions.

Harry still hadn't made much progress on finding the Horcruxes, the locket, he was now sure was hidden somewhere by Regulus. He had found another fake, hidden in the Drawing room at Grimmauld Place, with another taunting note to _'The Dark Lord'_.

Hufflepuff's cup, Harry was sure Voldemort kept with him at all times, this was something he learned using Dumbledore's pensieve to analyze all of the visions and dreams he had had of Voldemort. But he was still no closer to finding out the last Horcrux, there was surprisingly little information about any artifacts belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw. To say Harry was discouraged was a vast understatement.

'Wotcher, what's bothering you Harry?' Tonks spoke, taking a sip of her Gillywater.

'Nothing, Tonks, I'm fine. Why?' Harry wiped the morose look from his face with a grin, draining the last of his drink.

'Just worried about you, little cousin,'

Moody grunted slightly at this. He had been _very_ disapproving of Harry's reinheriting of the Weasleys and Tonkses to the Black magic.

'_Dark as they come, those Blacks are_' he'd said once, when he didn't think Harry could hear him.

Kingsley silenced him with a look. Moody just took another drink from his hip-flask, his eye spinning around in its socket.

Harry ignored the silent exchange, as did Tonks, though her hair flashed back to black for a moment.

'There' a concert I'm going to next month up in Portsmouth. You wanna go?'

Harry looked slightly green at this; he'd never been a big Wizarding Rock fan.

'I dunno, Tonks,'

'Come on, Stubby's playing!'

Harry snorted loudly, breaking into a laugh.

'What? How can you not like Stubby?'

'Oh it's not that… The Quibbler had an article once, something about Stubby Boardman being Sirius in disguise.'

Tonks' face fell slightly, her smile weakened.

'He would have liked that.' Harry just nodded.

A loud rumble coursed through the pub, and glasses rumbled. Dust and grit fell from the dirty ceiling.

'Head's up girlies, the backdoor's open and we've got a panic in the Alley,' Moody growled, drawing his wand and standing up.

Kingsley stood and cast a Sonorus Charm on himself.

'Ladies and Gentlemen this is Auror First Class Kingsley Shaklebolt, please evacuate from Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, this is not a warning. Do not panic.' But they did. Torrents of haggard looking witches and wizards came into the pub from Diagon Alley, screams and curses could be heard. Many of the frightened patrons pushed to get into Muggle London.

Harry nodded at Tonks as she fired a Patronus off to McGonagall, who would summon the rest of the Order. He drew his wand and fired his own Patronus to the Ministry of Magic, informing them of the attack. Together, the four pushed their way into Diagon Alley, where they were met by panicking people, burning rubble, and far too many Death Eaters to handle.

Harry directed his attention to the closest group of three, firing Bludgeoning Charms into their midst, distracting them from torturing an old woman. He hit one of them in the back of the head, he dropped like a stone. The others turned to face him, and he heard a familiar voice sneer,

'Potter,'

'Malfoy,' Harry returned as Draco threw his mask to the ground.

He twirled his wand upwards, firing a powerful stunner towards Malfoy, dodging the Blood-letting Curse that had been fired his way.

'The Dark Arts will only lead to your undoing, Draco.' Harry spoke calmly, firing a spear of ice towards him.

'Shut up, Mudblood.' Draco hissed, engulfing the spear in fire and banishing it back towards Harry.

Harry summoned a Golden Shield that shattered painfully as the lance of burning ice smashed into it.

'_Fulmenos Venite_' Draco cried, as a heavy bolt of lightning sprung forth from his wand.

Harry flicked his wand, summoning one of the large marble slabs that paved the steps of Gringotts, into its path. The stone scorched, but didn't crack, and Harry charmed it to act as a shield for him. He waved his wand in an arc, firing a net of razor like cords to cage the second Death Eater, who had regained his senses after watching the heated duel between Harry and Draco and was preparing to cast a curse.

'_Aduro Cuspis!_'

Harry's wand recoiled with the strength of his Spear of Flame curse. He twirled and twisted his wand in a familiar motion and began to fire spell after spell towards Malfoy. Draco began to dodge and shield, unable to cast anything offensive under the onslaught of hexes raining down on him.

With another motion, Harry sent another incendiary spell towards his adversary, catching his robe on fire. While Draco attempted to banish the fire and Harry dodged another curse from a Death Eater somewhere behind him, a shrill scream pierced the air, and Harry felt the Black ring pulse angrily. Harry turned sharply and saw Tonks, her hair black as night, hands morphed into talons, and her eyes an angry scarlet deeply in a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry grew cold as both the Black and Potter magics swirled around him, an icy wind and a sweltering heat powerful with rage. He turned back to Malfoy, his opponent looking upon his powerful stance in fear.

'I no longer have time to play with you Malfoy. Choose your side wisely, the Dark will not avail you.'

Harry drew his own phoenix-feather wand, and slashed downwards at him, binding him tightly with cords of rope and magic.

Loud cracks of apparition rang through Diagon Alley; figures garbed in robes of Crimson appeared. One of them fired a spell into the air, forming the figure of a giant Phoenix, posed to attack, it filled the alley with a ferocious screech of Phoenix-song as they began to battle the Death Eaters, and Harry grinned, the Order had arrived.

With a swish of his cloak, Harry disappeared and reappeared at Tonks side, she glanced at him and bared her pointed teeth in a dangerous grin.

Harry began to chant spells towards Bellatrix, firing bolts of destructive magic towards the witch.

'Oh look, its Wee-Baby-Potter come to play with Auntie Bella.' She fired the green jet of death towards both himself and Tonks, 'He thinks he can play with the Black magic, the filthy mudblood!' She shrieked in anger as the Black magic came to her aid, and she began sending dark curses at a faster pace, laughing all the while.

Harry growled as Tonks caught a Ripping Hex to her side, falling in a spray of blood and tissue. He focused on the cool magic that was bound to his blood, feeding it with his anger. He let loose a volley of violently coloured curses, none of them legal; each tore through the air as Bellatrix laughed gleefully.

She shielded and dodged each one, though she was wary at their power. Potter was like a Behemoth, using brute force over skill. That made her nervous. Bellatrix waved her wand, summoning a flock of crows and transfiguring a nearby slate of rock into three wolves. Her glee failing as he did something she didn't expect, and banished a dense cloud of air into the crows, crushing them with one fell swoop. He smiled chillingly as he decapitated each wolf with a single wave of his wand; he disappeared for a moment, before reappearing less than a metre from her. She cackled and began to incant the killing curse, Potter waved his wand and she found herself very wet, standing in a pool of cold water. The last words Bellatrix heard were,

'Ding-Dong, the Wicked Witch is dead.'

Harry released the bolt of lightning, mentally thanking Draco for screaming that spell out loud, and spitting on the charred carcass of his godfather's killer. He apparated again to Tonks' side, slipping in the slick pool of blood that was gushing from her side; Harry cast a blood clotting spell, stemming the flow, and smiling at her. She smiled weakly, her face pale, and reverted to her regular self.

'Did you get her?' Tonks whispered.

Harry nodded.

'Good,' she started to close her eyes, welcoming the fate that awaited her.

'Oh no, you don't Tonksie. You're not dying on me yet.' Harry said as he started to run his wand along the wound, healing the major damage, and passing a phial of potion to her.

'And why shouldn't I,' Tonks said, weakly swallowing the Blood Replenisher.

'Because Remus isn't back yet, and he would kill me if I let you die.' Tonks smiled painfully as Harry began to close the wound, 'That and we're going to see Stubby!'

She laughed slightly as Harry closed her hand around a Port-Key to the infirmary set-up at the Burrow.

'Good,' she said as the Port-Key whisked her away.

Harry stood to survey the battle, which had mostly finished; the Order was rounding up the remnants of the Death Eaters who hadn't disapparated.

'Well, well, well,' Came an oily voice from behind him, 'An how is our little, _celebrity_ feeling this fine afternoon,'

Harry turned to see the depthless black eyes he had grown to hate, and his magic began to rise again, this time, the roaring Potter magic came to life – its leonine heat surrounding him.

'Very well, thank you. I've already killed Bellatrix, let's see if I can up the count to two shall we?'

**Author's Note:** Yes I took too long to get this chapter up considering it was half finished when I posted the first one. But to be honest my Computer actually exploded, smoke, fire, the whole deal. I couldn't retrieve it so i've been lazing around because I was depressed that I had to re-do the chapter. It's done now, I'll start the next one. Oh and I suppose I won't be winning this contest, considering I definately won't be done anytime soon. Anyways, Reviews are always appreciated.


End file.
